Shelter from the Storm
by x Miss I x
Summary: My first Downton Story. In 3 parts, post-series 2, but AU. Summary: During Matthew's journey home one evening, he is given a horrid reminder of a painful memory, and longs for shelter from the storm.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello!_

_This is a new venture for me. Never written a story for the Downton Abbey fandom before. But I hope this will be the start of a new journey for me :)_

_So this is a 3 part story, taking place post series 2 but AU as I have no idea what series 3 will entail for M/M in this department. _

_Reviews most welcome_

_Summary: During Matthew's journey home one evening, he is given a horrid reminder of a painful memory, and longs for shelter from the storm._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey_

_xxx _

Chapter 1

Dirt

Ever so much dirt. That's what it was, dirt.

Dirt shielding, dirt disguising, dirt assisting and dirt rebelling. How often dirt was present; everywhere, making its mark known to all.

The wind and rain on a blustering autumn day proved an attacking force of nature. Walking home was not an easy task. The umbrella proved futile against this mighty force.

Only a little bit farther. Not long now. Home, shelter, refuge. That's what he sought, as he battled the elements. The destination was in sight now, and all that it held within warmed him in the cold evening air.

He looked at the ground as he walked, protecting his face, but there it was. Dirt; and then he noticed that dirt continued around him, everywhere. It now turned to mud in the rain, but nonetheless it splattered everywhere, still making its mark. He finally paused. He had to. Memories burst through his mind. He had been so dirty. As had so many others. Dirt had been a part of his life for so long. Faces, covered in them. All of them.

His heart beat rapidly as he examined his surroundings. Noises. He could hear noises, encapsulating him like a whirlpool of sound, trapping him. The wind howled violently now, making its presence heard.

_Make it stop,_ he pleaded to himself. _Please._

Screams, piercing right into his soul. Visions appeared right before him. A horrifying reminder of past events, another life almost. A nightmare.

A woman's voice echoed into his thoughts, like a beautiful song. There was no place for a voice so special in this memory, he told himself. He blinked rapidly, forcing the memory out of his mind, desperately willing it gone.

"Please," he cried.

"Matthew."

There it was again, his angel calling him; calling him home.

He opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them, and there he was, face to face with the woman who his thoughts were always drawn to.

"Mary?" he asked, momentarily confused. He turned around and glanced behind him.

He had journeyed through the storm, and survived.

Turning back to Mary, he noticed her smile was not the same.

"Is everything alright?" She carefully asked.

Gathering himself, he mirrored her smile. "Yes of course, my darling. It's rather stormy this evening," he added calmly, desperate to change the subject.

Her smile grew wider and a gentle laugh escaped her. She pulled him inside the house and the new found warmth that greeted him took him off guard. His umbrella was taken away from him, by whom, he could not say. He felt Mary's gaze on him and smiled as he met her eyes. He knew what she wanted to ask him, but like the kind woman she was, she didn't pry. His smile invited her to take him in her arms, and she held him tightly, sheltering him in her arms.

"You're drenched!" she exclaimed, as she pulled back slightly to observe him closer.

"Well it is raining, my dear," he teased.

She hit him lightly on the shoulder but smiled nonetheless. He laughed heartily as he held her close and that warmed her greater than any fire could.

"You must bathe, darling, before dinner," she gently instructed, lifting her hand to tenderly caress his face.

He could do nothing but smile at her caring nature shining though. It always did.

Mary pulled away to ask for a bath to be drawn for him, but he remained rooted to the spot by the doorway. Somehow he motioned over to where Mary was talking to one of the servants.

"Matthew, your shoes!" she admonished in horror, as she walked back over to him.

Glancing down, he finally noticed the dirt and mud that clung on to him from outside. He glared at them, startled and angry that they had found a way into his home.

"No problem, darling, just take them off so that they can be cleaned," Mary gently advised, signalling to the butler to intervene.

She gave her husband an encouraging smile but Matthew felt unable to return it, and scowled to himself.

"I will go and see if your bath is ready," Mary said, as she made her way over to the stairs. Her head shot up as she suddenly felt his hand cling on to hers tightly. He caressed her soft fingers with his own and gently pulled her closer to him.

He waited for the butler to be out of earshot before he brought his lips to brush against her ears and desperately pleaded, "Join me."

Her eyes shot wide open as she stared ardently into his intense gaze, seeking reassurance as to what he just requested. She couldn't help the bright smile that illuminated her face as his eyes bored deep into hers. Mary licked her lips, making sure no one had overheard as she made her way up the stairs, leading Matthew deep into the house, far away from the outside world, to be cleansed in every way, in the safety of his wife's loving arms.


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh my, thank you so much everybody for your wonderful reviews, follows, favourites etc. It means so much!_

_And I'm so thrilled you're enjoying the storyline and how I'm writing it. It's very helpful knowing what works, and gives me lots of confidence! :)_

_Well, this is the second part of the story that you've been waiting for. I hope you like it. _

_Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey_

_xxx_

Chapter 2

Water cascaded down over his skin, like a balm, a protective layer, soothing him.

The stains he knew would inevitably return were temporarily banished from him, by the hand of his wife, and a sponge.

Skilled hands worked over him and thoughtfully scrubbed away all his marks, battling to remove all signs of being outside. How strange, the composure and comfort a small, soft weapon can bring; ironic even, given what futile relief it would have given back then, in another time.

But then, it was not the sponge that relaxed him, but its wondrous proprietor, who knew how to administer the item most effectively.

His eyes closed and his head tilted subconsciously as he relished his wife's ministrations. He was not aware he had made any sound until his wife's gentle laughed echoed around the room. His eyes fluttered open as he regained consciousness and the kind-hearted smile of his wife shone brightly, though there was an element of smugness there.

"What?" Matthew quizzed, a small smirk slowly appearing on his lips.

"Oh nothing," Mary replied nonchalantly, supressing a smirk of her own, as she made to continue washing him, leaning over from where she was sitting in front of him in the tub.

"I do believe something has amused you," he told her teasingly, taking hold of one of her arms which focusing on one of his shoulders.

"Do you indeed?" She questioned innocently, and then relinquished her arm as she sat back in the bath to admire him properly.

Matthew wanted to answer, but somehow he had lost all capability to form a sentence as his wife's gaze bore intensely into his own. Her arms were leaning either side on the edge of the bath, and the water barely covered her chest, leaving him a clear view of his wife's assets, a treasure he alone could view. His breathing increased beyond his control and his lips became dry. He gasped involuntarily as he could feel pressure, a foot, slowly caressing the inside of his leg and slowly working its way higher. His head rolled back as it became too painful to try to maintain eye contact with his wife, his tongue desperately moistening his lips. But as her foot was about to reach its destination, a loud clash of thunder pounded outside and Matthew jumped in horror, startling Mary in the process.

"I'm sorry, I'm…"

But he ashamedly looked away as he tried to regain his composure and avoid the surprised eyes in front of him.

"Darling –"

"No Mary!"

He hadn't meant to raise him voice but he couldn't bear her sympathy or pity. All that could be heard was the sound of their deep breathing as the storm raged outside.

"I can't do this," Matthew explained, his voice breaking.

Mary could feel tears begin to build in her own eyes as she watched her husband battling with himself. How different these emotions were to those that pulsated inside both of them only a moment ago.

"Matthew…" She sighed sensitively, but she didn't know what she wanted to say, or what he wanted to hear.

"Mary, I'm so sorry" he whispered dejectedly, which snapped Mary back into motion.

"Matthew, you have nothing to be sorry for," She told him fervently, crawling over to him as neatly as she could manage, in such a small space.

She took hold of his face tightly in her hands and forced him to look at her, though his eyes seemed unable to make the journey.

"Matthew, look at me," she said slowly and calmly, and his eyes gradually met hers. They were not the crystal blue ones she knew well, but were darker, and dull, lifeless almost.

"You do not have to be ashamed of anything, darling. It is perfectly acceptable and understandable for you to feel like this after what you have been through."

"Mary, please –"

"No! Let me finish" she pleaded firmly, and leant her forehead against his. "I am your wife and I never want you to feel ashamed, ever. Do you understand me?"

"But Mary…" he implored desperately.

"No buts" she told him, and lifted her head away to smile affectionately at his tormented form. "Now we hadn't quite finished washing you, my darling," she said lightly, as she retrieved the sponge and placed herself close to him, on her knees between his legs, and tenderly brushed his chest.

Their lips were close as Mary continued her task. But Matthew's gaze was transfixed on her porcelain face, mesmerised by her beauty, particularly as she focused intently on her task. At the feel of his hot breath on her lips she turned to him, both now smiling. She brought the sponge to his face and laughed as she moved it across his features playfully, a smile now forming on his lips, which gave her even more joy. She squealed with delight as she felt herself being lifted so that she was now straddling him in the bath.

The sponge now lay desolate on the floor of the bathroom as her arms clasped tightly around him and they pressed their bodies firmly together. She could feel him against her most intimately and her breath caught in her throat. Mary could have sworn she heard a growl as she lowered herself onto him and they joined together skilfully, lips connecting passionately, one of his fierce hands in her hair. Their bodies entwined together, the explicit sounds of their lovemaking filling the room, rivalling the intense sensations taking place outside.

He had cajoled his wife to join him in the bath (though it did not take much coaxing at all).

But his wife was right; he really did need a bath.

* * *

_Would love to know what you thought! I will upload the final part tomorrow evening :) _


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, thank you so much you're your reviews, alerts, messages, etc. It means a lot that you like it! Makes me feel more comfortable about writing more stories in the future._

_So, here is the final part of this story. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!_

_xxx_

Chapter 3

Matthew never tired of the sight that welcomed him each night as he entered their bedroom.

His beautiful wife sitting leisurely in bed reading a novel, with her beautiful dark hair cascading down in a long plait, draped elegantly across her shoulder. It was a vision that was his right to behold as her husband. A privilege granted to no one else. The intimate act of seeing her luscious locks in this way always strengthened his desire for her.

His hands remained at the tie of his dressing gown as he slowly removed it, gladly taking his time.

"And what may I ask, are you doing Mr Crawley?" his wife asked dryly, her eyes remaining on the book in front of her (although whether she was actually reading it was another question).

"Just admiring the view, my darling," he smirked, placing his dressing gown on a nearby chair.

Mary attempted to gently reproach him with another witty remark of her own, but when met with his handsome face gazing adoringly at her, eyes full of desire, the words escaped her. It was futile to challenge him when her own desire coursed through her fiercely, even threatening to overtake her as he got into bed beside her. She put her book away on the bedside table beside her, and nestled further into the cushions, facing her beloved husband.

They had been married for five months, yet their desire for one another was stronger than ever.

"How are you feeling," Matthew asked softly, as he gently placed his hand on her belly.

"Wonderful," Mary answered warmly, with a smile which radiated an ethereal glow.

Matthew couldn't help but return a wide smile as her hand covered his, both relishing at the thought of what was contained underneath.

"And what about you?" Mary asked cautiously.

The smile slowly faced on Matthew's face and he leant closer to rest his forehead against his wife's, closing his eyes.

"Mary…" Matthew began slowly, swallowing painfully against the sudden lump that appeared in this throat. "It's just…It can't…"

"Shush, shush, it's all right," Mary soothed in hush tones, comforting him and taking his face in her hands. "You do not have to tell me if you cannot."

"I'm so sorry –"

"Don't be," Mary interrupted lightly, and shook her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Matthew gave her a small smile in appreciation, and brought his hand up to delicately caress the side of her face. Mary closed her eyes as she savoured the sensation of her husband's touch. She could feel her heartbeat beginning to increase, particularly as he reached her collar bone. Matthew's hand then shifted to her hair, currently draped over her shoulder. He pulled at the bow, which was tying up her soft hair, and slowly freed it, tenderly loosening the strands up towards the back of her head, where he massaged her hair free. Mary leant her head back and sighed, blissfully content with the pleasurable sensations Matthew's ministrations were creating.

Her head dipped closer to him where she whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, as he sought her mouth with his own. He intended on deepening the kiss, when she pulled back and held him. He looked at her and patiently waited for whatever she wanted, though inside he was desperate to continue.

"I just want you to know, that if you did ever want to talk, I am right here." This time it was her turn to caress his face. "I will always be here," she smiled.

Matthew had no words to say to that. A powerful emotion took over him and he pulled her into a passionate embrace where he kissed her fervently, not wanting any space to come between them. Oh how he loved her, and wanted to show her how much. She was Mary, his beautiful wife and mother of his unborn child. His partner in life, and in everything that meant.

Mary held him tightly to her and pulled him down over her intimately. Nothing felt more natural than when the two of them were together; their true selves. Where they did not have to hide or pretend.

Their love knew no bounds and could withstand any storm.

As they slowly lay down, he cocooned her in their bed. Deep within the sheets they professed their intense, undying love for one another, with no need for words at all.

* * *

_Let me know what you think please!_

_xxx_


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